


Conversation Piece

by cornelius



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3221255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornelius/pseuds/cornelius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://writtendark.tumblr.com">writtendark</a>, one of the winners of my 1500 followers giveaway on my <a href="http://s-cornelius.tumblr.com">blog</a>. The prompt was “Could you do something with Claire, post 10x9?” and I ended up writing a 10x10 coda. Title shamelessly ripped from a David Bowie song</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversation Piece

Dean watched stone-faced as the couple who tried to attack him scrambled up off the ground and ran for the trees. Claire met his glare, trembling, and a new anger curled in Dean’s chest.

“Claire!” Dean yelled as Claire made a break for the ancient Winnebago, “Stop. Wait. Let me talk to you.” She paused at the door, and turned to stare at him with red-rimmed eyes.

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say,” she bit out but made no further move to enter the RV.

“Hey,” Dean said, stepping forward, “ _you_  set a trap for me, so be lucky I just wanna talk.” Claire’s eyes fell guiltily but her arms didn’t uncross, as Dean continued to close in on her. When he was only a few feet away, she dropped her arms in frustration and stomped off to find the nearest bench without an axe buried in the backrest. Dean silently followed her, setting himself down gently after she flopped down with a huff.

“So talk,” Claire crossed her arms, squaring her shoulders and daring him to continue, “I don’t have to listen.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care,” Dean pursed his lips, “Cas wanted me to talk to you, so I’m here and we’re gonna talk.”

“I don’t like you,” she said, “I’m still mad at you.”

“I get it,” Dean said gruffly. He looked at her, projecting toughness but trembling slightly, and sighed. All his anger left him, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He repeated himself, softer and more distant this time, “Trust me,  _I get it_.”

She bristled a little at his comment, in the teenage way that says “you don’t get me at all old man,” but Dean cut her off. “I know you don’t wanna hear it, but I do know how you feel. All the loss, all the frustration, all the anger. I’ve been fightin’ monsters longer than you’ve been alive, I’ve lost more people...” Dean paused, collecting himself, before continuing thickly, “Been responsible for a few more of those deaths than I’d really care to admit.”

Dean looked at her, waiting for a response, but she clung to silence. Dean turned away, burying his head in his hands and groaning. He ached for a beer to hold -- something to fiddle with, something to distract himself from the awkwardness of this situation. He could feel her stare on him, boring through him and threw his hands up in frustration.

“Hate me all you want, but you should cut Cas some slack,” Dean said with a sigh, “He just wants to do right by you. He feels responsible for what’s happened to you.”

“He is responsible,” she spat, “Castiel killed my dad.”

“Look,” Dean said, turning to meet Claire’s eyes, “I don’t know everything about you and your family, but I met your dad. He made a  _choice_  when he let Cas in. Who am I to say if it was the right one or the wrong one, but he still made that choice. And when push came to shove, Jimmy made that choice again to save you and your mom.” Tears welled in Claire’s eyes, out of sadness or anger Dean couldn’t say, but he pressed on, “And maybe Jimmy  _would_  still be around if Cas hadn’t shown up. But Cas played a big role in stoppin’ the Apocalypse, so without Cas, Jimmy’d probably _still_  be dead -- Hell, we all’d be.”

“Why do you even care?” Claire asked bitingly.

“He thinks helpin’ you will make him feel better, and, he’s my --” Dean paused and searched for the right word.  _Friend_  seemed so small in comparison to what Cas was to him, and  _brother_  didn’t quite fit right either. Dean rubbed the back of his neck and decided to change tack, “Cas has made a few mistakes -- more than a few, really. But he -- well, he’s one of the good guys and he wants to look after you.”

“I don’t need a new dad,” Claire said to her sneakers.

Dean shrugged, “Not sayin’ you do. Not even sayin’ Cas’  _should_  be your new dad.” Claire looked up at him in shock. Dean remembered being her age, how he felt about his dad and his dad’s ironclad rules for being a hunter, being a man. If someone’d come into his life out of the blue and took away his dad, he’d probably act just like Claire. And considering how Dean took down that yellow-eyed bastard of a demon, at least Claire’s approach didn’t include releasing demons from Hell or selling her soul.

“All I’m sayin’ is give him another chance,” Dean said after another stretch of silence, lacing his hands together between his legs, “He’s probably the only person on this earth who really gives a crap about you right now, and you gotta hold on to those people the best you can.”

Claire’s expression softened. She nodded absently, rubbing her arms lightly.

“So,” Dean said, “you wanna tell me about Bonnie and Clyde here?”

“They were nice,” Claire said, voice hardening slightly, “They listened to me. They didn’t kill people I loved.”

Dean rubbed the Mark of Cain through the layers of his clothing. “For what it's worth kid, I'm sorry. I still think Randy was a horrible person -- he took advantage of  _you_  --,” he pointed at her for emphasis, “But, he didn't deserve to die.”

Claire looked at him in shock again; there was no room for remorse in Claire’s picture of the monster who helped take her dad away, who killed Randy.

Dean’s words hung between them; Dean could feel a tendril of self-loathing curling inside him. All of those men were monsters, but none of them deserved to die that day.

As if she could read his mind, Claire asked, “Did Castiel give you the monster talk too?”

“What?” Dean started and Claire laughed, all teenager making fun of an old man.

“Nevermind,” Claire said with a laugh. The corner of Dean’s mouth curved up slightly to match her grin.

Claire’s smile melted away, and she asked seriously, without a hint of bile, “Did you want to kill them?”

“Who? Bonnie and Clyde?” Claire nodded at Dean’s question. “Yes.”

Claire didn’t seem taken aback at all by Dean’s blunt and honest answer. Instead she met his eyes, and said solemnly, “But you didn’t kill them.”

Another small smile tugged at the corner of Dean’s lips. After days and weeks and months (and, let’s be honest,  _years_ ) of fucking up, at least Dean could say he did one thing right; he let them go. “No,” he repeated, “I didn’t kill them.”

A new type of silence stretched between them; it wasn’t not completely comfortable, but at least it wasn’t like the tension-filled, awkward pauses of earlier in their conversation. They both stared out at the lake, taking a moment to let all the events of the past few days sink in.

Dean coughed. “So you want a hug or something?”

Claire raised her eyebrow, lip curling in teenage disgust, “No.”

Dean sniffed. “Yea you’re probably right.” He clapped his hands down on his knees and asked, “Alright, need me to drop you off somewhere?”

“Nah,” she replied, standing up, and walked over to the Winnebago. Dean followed her, helped her pack up her meager possessions, and walked her to the road. She picked a direction and began walking, but Dean stopped her with a hand to the shoulder.

“I know you still hate me, and that’s okay,” Dean said, letting his hand drop, “But just don’t take it out on Cas.”

“I’ll think about it,” Claire said honestly and resumed walking. After a few steps, she turned and waved, a small, fragile smile on her face.

“Take care,” Dean called after her, before walking back to the Impala and driving home.


End file.
